Aftermath
by FirePiskie123
Summary: This is a sadder version of events after the final battle, because not everything has a happy ending. Speaks of the trauma after the war. *Warnings inside, rated M to be safe* Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any other characters.


**Warning: non-graphic mentions of self harm, implied eating disorders, stress disorders, and implied but not stated suicide.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, all is owned by the wonderful J.K. Rowling.**

**Sorry for being negative in this one. It wasn't a good day.**

The world was dying and then suddenly, after one terrible night, things just went back to normal.

Voldemort was dead, killed by Harry in a heroic battle.

For the first time in years, everyone could breathe normally. They were free.

Except if you counted the panic attacks, the post-traumatic stress disorder, the nightmares; the everlasting fear.

The older generation went back to normal, as best as they could. They seemed to settle down into a normal routine, and went about their day to day business like nothing was wrong.

The younger generation weren't so lucky.

There was Padma Patil, who refused to eat anything since her sister had died. Their best friend, Lavender Brown, had been bitten by Fenrir Greyback, and no one knew whether she would survive. Her condition at St. Mungos was critical.

There was Ginny Weasley, who had taken up the blade after five years clean of it, all because she couldn't cope with the horrendous nightmares.

No one even knew what was going through George's head. He had gotten home three days after the battle, shut himself in his room, and refused to come out since. Bill had even tried to blast the door down, but his room was so strongly warded that no one even tried anymore. They were all too consumed by grief.

Not many knew of Dennis Creevey, the fourteen year old whose brother had died. He had sunken into a deeper depression than anyone could imagine. His heart had died along with his brother.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were trying their hardest to survive, but it had gotten more and more difficult as each day passed and they were required to attend more and more funerals. With each passing hour, another owl flew in to swamp them with letters of praise, none of which they felt was deserved.

The first night at the Burrow was peaceful; everyone was too exhausted to dream. But on the second night, after their bodies had recharged and their sleep was normal, the household woke up to horrific screams coming from Ron's room. People flew across the corridor to see what was happening; they assumed it must have been Harry, but to their surprise it was Ron who was trapped in his nightmares. Harry was their trying to wake him up, but to no avail; Ron continued to scream.

His mother knelt at his bed, stroking his face softly with tears streaming down her face. He began whimpering in his sleep, calling out "Hermione" in an agonised plea. Seconds later, the same bushy haired girl came flying into the bedroom and landed on top of him, hugging him tightly. This managed to wake him up, and he clung tightly to his love.

"She was… You were….-

-Shush now, it's alright" interrupted Hermione. "We're safe".

The rest of the family exchanged uneasy glances before leaving silently.

"Hermione dear, I normally would never say such a thing but I think it would be best if you stayed with Ron in here" said Mrs Weasley softly. "He obviously needs you".

_HPHPHPHPHPHPHP_

The Daily Prophet had been closely monitored by Kingsley Shacklebolt ever since he became Minister for Magic. It was only allowed to print positive stories now, and if anything negative was printed, the person responsible was fired immediately.

When Harry sat down to breakfast one morning (which he still did not have the appetite for) he almost choked when he read the headline "Wizarding World recovering spectacularly from final battle". Recovering spectacularly? That was bullshit and everyone knew it. Fuming, he threw the paper down and stormed off into the drizzling rain outside.

He didn't stop walking for the next six hours. It was better to walk and channel his energy rather than think about the flashbacks, the thoughts in his head, or the memories.

_HPHPHPHPHPHPHP_

Hermione woke one cold night, shaking uncontrollably, to nothing but her own silent tears, and the sound of Ron and Harry's restless breathing. The three had pushed their beds together and slept that way every night, clinging on for comfort. Without that, they would feel truly alone.

She couldn't think straight, and she couldn't breathe. She had dreamt of her parents, who were still in Australia, calling her worthless, ungrateful, and a burden. Even though it wasn't true, in Hermione's mind, it was.

She padded silently out of the room and headed downstairs. The door made little sound when she noiselessly stepped outside into the fresh air of the night.

The porch step allowed her to sit calmly and supress the urge to run away or stop breathing. Calmly collecting her thoughts, she didn't notice another figure outside, just round the corner.

"Hermione?" said the figure tentatively, their shadow just visible in the darkness.

Hermione leapt of the step, pulling her wand out of her sleeve immediately and scanning the area.

"Who's there?" she called out, nervously but defiantly.

"It's me, Ginny" said the figure, stepping out of the shadows. She was pale, even in the moonlight unnaturally so.

"You look ill Ginny" said Hermione sorrowfully.

"It's nothing" came the nervous reply. She looked like she was hiding something, and when Hermione noticed her slight shift in stance she also noticed the drops of blood on her sleeve.

"Have you been doing that again?" said Hermione, indicating her arm. Ginny nodded, and although Hermione cared deeply, this time she could understand. She wasn't some thirteen year old walking in on a first year with no clue why she was doing it. This time, they had just experienced a war.

"Ginny, I wish you wouldn't, so very badly, but I know you will" said Hermione sadly. "Just be careful. There are a lot of people here who care about you".

The flame haired girl didn't respond, just nodded and stared off into the night. Hermione sighed deeply, then turned around and headed back to bed where her best friends were waiting.

Hopefully they wouldn't have woken up.

_HPHPHPHPHPHPHP_

Arthur Weasley was a very quiet man, most of the time very timid, but bravery and kindness filled his heart. He noticed everything that happened in his household; he had raised seven children after all.

He noticed the way his daughter shut herself off from the world, choosing to take her anger out on herself rather than anyone else. It pained his heart when he saw the tell-tale scars.

He saw the way his youngest son was suffering, under such stress and anxiety and fear that he didn't know how to be happy.

He saw the fire die from George's eyes before his son disappeared, refusing to reappear.

Perhaps worst of all, he watched as his three eldest sons refused to show any emotion at all. With their father's help, the four held the family together, comforting Mrs Weasley as she cried or seeing to it that Ginny ate something. They always made a plate for George too; just in case. But they never broke down, just continued with their life, and Arthur couldn't help but wonder out of his three eldest sons which would be the first to crack.

He knew their world was broken. And he didn't know how to fix it.

_HPHPHPHPHPHPHP_

"We are gathered here today to say goodbye to an honourable man who….."

Ron let the words wash over him. They didn't touch him under the intense pain he was already feeling. No words could describe his heartbreak as he watched the casket containing his best friend lower into the ground.

He and Hermione clung to each other, sobbing their hearts out, each refusing to let go of the other. They were all they had left.

"Harry James Potter was our saviour. It is a terrible tragedy that the world proved too much for him to bear, and we pray that in his heart he will forgive the tragic misdeeds of the people on this earth. We hope that in death he will find peace."

The pain in Ron and Hermione was like fire. Everything they had was gone.


End file.
